


Ineffability is Ineffable: An Encounter of the Unlikely

by harrietdowlinglovebot



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Gabriel/Harriet - Freeform, Holy Authority, Mentions of Unhealthy Relationships, crack ship, ineffable, post armageddon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrietdowlinglovebot/pseuds/harrietdowlinglovebot
Summary: "She headed towards the front door, curiosity peaking, leaning against the frame and watching as the Gardener spoke to a rather tall man dressed in various shades of grey. His monotonous colour was accentuated with contrasts of lilac which popped pleasantly against the dull. She sipped her cocktail again, taking him in, curiously. The man had short, dark hair which was slicked back and presentable, and his simple-coloured suit was fitted; she could make out the well-kept body beneath those clothes. Why on Earth was someone like that talking to the Gardener?"--An unusual ship, created by myself and my friend, which we have fallen into the deep rabbit hole of. Please join us there.
Relationships: Gabriel/Harriet
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Ineffability is Ineffable: An Encounter of the Unlikely

Ineffability is Ineffable:   
An Encounter of the Unlikely   
  


**Ship** : Gabriel x Harriet Dowling

Notes: An unusual ship, created by myself and my friend, which we have fallen into the deep rabbit hole of. Please join us there. 

* * *

  
It was a warm summer’s evening, the sun was casting a beautiful orange glow across the vast greenery of the Dowling’s residence. It was calmer as everything was settling down, Warlock was with the Nanny; it seemed he preferred her bedtime stories, anyway. Harriet Dowling picked up her refreshing hibiscus cosmopolitan and took a long sip, thankful for the shot of alcohol to get her through the rest of the evening.  
  
Thaddeus was gone— Again— and she was alone for the umpteenth month since Warlock had been born. She thought their son would give him more reason to stay home, but no. Nothing could come between him and his job, not even the image of a perfect American family. Of course, that was not the only reason she had Warlock; he was still the absolute joy of her life, particularly his name. It was special. She chose it, not Thaddeus. There was no big status or heritage to uphold. It was the name of her son that was perfect for him. She looked up from her glass, noticing the sound of distant voices from out the front where the gardener was supposed to be tending to the flowers. She peered through the big bay window, barely making out the sight of his burnt-orange hat, hidden by the foliage.  
  
She headed towards the front door, curiosity peaking, leaning against the frame and watching as the Gardener spoke to a rather tall man dressed in various shades of grey. His monotonous colour was accentuated with contrasts of lilac which popped pleasantly against the dull. She sipped her cocktail again, taking him in, curiously. The man had short, dark hair which was slicked back and presentable, and his simple-coloured suit was fitted; she could make out the well-kept body beneath those clothes. Why on Earth was someone like that talking to the Gardener? As she lingered on that thought, her breath caught in her throat as sharp, cold lilac eyes locked on to her’s. It felt as though the world stopped, that time had frozen and it was only the two of them existing within it. He was... Unfairly attractive and frustratingly her type. She felt weak at the knees to be subjected to such a gaze, and from such a man. It seemed that the two being spotted together was not meant to happen, and, with that, the conversation was over. The Gardener ushered her away, making his excuses, as the suave gentleman walked down the street, vanishing into the distance.  
  
Harriet Dowling hadn’t thought about that man for years. She couldn’t say she had even remembered about him after she initially tried to pull information from the Gardener. He had been the Gardener’s employer, which made sense as to why they were so different in... Every single way. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to think about him-- he was incredibly handsome-- but that she was married and, despite Thaddeus not giving her the same thought, she had a vow to respect.  
  
However, all of that seemed to fall right in to place, almost ineffably, when she found herself across from him at a high-end café.  
  
  
The Archangel could feel eyes on him; he wasn’t foolish, he could sense mortal intrigue. He glanced over in the person’s direction, hoping to send their gaze back to whatever it was they were doing, but he was caught off guard.  
Her.  
From before.  
The 'Not-The-Antichrist’s' mother.  
His brows creased in thought. He turned back to his drink, enjoying the scent of the coffee rather than the act of drinking it.  
Perhaps her son could help bring about Armageddon again...  
He pulled a face at his thought. The Ineffable Plan had been set in motion and no one was to know what that even was, Aziraphale had become a power not to be messed with, and so Gabriel was left with time on his hands. He pinched the bridge of his nose. All of his hard work, his dedication... Ruined by an Angel-gone-bad, an Angel he had trusted to do his job.  
He looked over towards her out of the corner of his eyes, not wanting to make it to obvious. The positive attention was flattering; he hadn’t been getting enough of it lately, not after all that had happened. She wasn’t hard on the eyes either. In standards of human, he thought she rated quite high amongst them. He picked up his coffee and moved to make his way over, but she was already on her way over. He couldn’t help but smirk as he noticed. She was as drawn to him as he was her, it seemed. There was a magnetism between them that he couldn't work out. He brought the coffee to his lips, pretending to drink it.  
  
She had just wanted to enjoy a cup of coffee on her own, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, but ended up noticing a familiar person. Before she had even realised it, her feet led her in the direction of the man she had seen all those years ago. It was certainly about time to be confident like this. She had struggled, recently, but this felt all too easy. It felt like some sort of fate.  
“I know you,” Harriet spoke as she sat down. “You employed my Gardener.” Her voice was smooth like honey and rich like chocolate, flirting all too easily with this handsome man before her. Gabriel looked to her with a furrow of his brows, creasing his eyes as he did so before realisation set in. That disguise.  
“Oh. Him. Yeah. He was one of mine.” He muttered, a little distastefully. “You.” He narrowed his eyes at her, sparkling with a tease. “Spy on people often, huh?” She couldn’t help but toy with the necklace sitting atop her collarbones, smirking in response, already enjoying every bit of this. He was handsome and his voice was just as attractive, a seductive low tone that vibrated with the core of her being.  
“Spying? Oh, I just couldn’t understand why my Gardener was with such a gorgeous man, is all.” There it was, a spark. As he looked over at her, the electricity jolted.  
“Gorgeous, hm?” He fully faced her, not being shy with gazing over her form, taking every bit of her in, just as she first did with him. He locked his eyes on to her’s, making her go for her drink to filter the energy a little more.  
“Gorgeous. Yes. Is that not what you think? I mean, in comparison to my Gardener, at least. You... Certainly dress better.”  
“You think?” The Angel smirked in response, feeling his chest puff out a little bit; he didn’t realise a compliment could make him feel as good as it did. He looked to her again, pretending to drink. “Your husband and kid not here?” He noticed the odd look and he gestured vaguely. “Gardener.” She nodded in understanding and shook her head.  
“Warlock’s at boarding school back home in America," She gave a small frown as she commented, "Thaddeus... We’ve just divorced.” The Angel furrowed his brows in question. She glanced away, lightly brushing down the back of her hair with a palm. “Yeah, I know.”  
“So you’re here on your own?” The Angel asked with both confusion and intrigue. She nodded, sipping her drink again.  
“A vacation to make me feel better? Spend a lot of money, see gorgeous little English towns… You know, the usual.” He nodded, pretending like he understood the charm. He had to admit, there was something about this city in particular that drew him to it. London was something.  
“Bumping into me should’ve made your vacation feel extra special, then, huh?” His eyes lit up with an unknowing charm that had the woman scanning him with her warm eyes.  
“Something like that.” She purred in response, shrugging, nonchalantly, almost yearning to pull more out from him. He buckled, leaning in closer.  
“Or would seeing me more often do that?” Her head snapped back towards him and she felt a smile upturn the corners of her lips.  
“Are you asking me on a date, sir? I don’t even know your name.” She feigned outrage, a hand across her chest. Her heart raced with a giddiness, this was exhilarating.  
“Depends on your answer.” He leaned back, tilting his head, almost knowingly. What a date entailed, he wasn’t so sure, but he would find out. This human woman was intriguing to him. She made him feel things he had never felt before in his existence. It was unusual and he wanted more of it.  
“I suppose I’d have to say yes.” She shrugged again, coyly, fingers playing with a lock of her hair. Gabriel placed his cup on the side and stood up.  
“I suppose you would.” He spoke, watching as she quickly grabbed something to scribble on. She handed him a paper napkin, her mobile number written on it. She stood, only just reaching his shoulder, and placed it in the front pocket of his suit jacket, before sitting down again, folding a leg over the other. He smirked as he looked down to the napkin in his pocket, placing his cup further on the counter, miracling the coffee away (was anyone keeping count anymore?). Just as he was about to turn and leave, he leaned down. “Gabriel.” Was all he said before he left the café.  
  
  
  
Harriet sat at the bar, upon a high stool in a knee-length crimson dress, fitted perfectly to hug all of the parts she desired to present. Upon her collarbones sat her favourite silver necklace, an heirloom from her family in America, that daintily brought the attention to her slender neck, along with her perfectly bobbed hazel hair. She sipped from a cocktail, something elegant and feminine, as she waited for her date to arrive. He had given her the place and was to meet at eight, but she arrived ten minutes early, her mix of nerves and anticipation getting to her. It had been far too long since she’d been on a date and it was almost frightening, but she was eager to see him again. She couldn’t help it; he was charming, exhilarating and handsome. There was a spark she couldn’t deny and she wanted to see it burn.  
  
Upon that thought, a hand touched her back.  
“Sorry, were you waiting long?” His low voice sounded, behind her. He stood next to her, smiling charmingly. She shook her head.  
“I have only been here for five minutes.” She assured. Well, she was sitting for five minutes.  
“Shall we?” He gestured. She nodded, leaving her glass on the side as she was led up the stairs towards a private, expensive booth. Goodness, she was used to the high life, but this felt different. This was more than a status symbol. This was showing-off, but _for_ her. They took their seats in the booth, which overlooked the rest of the restaurant, no other people surrounding them, minus the staff that worked there. Between them was a small, white candle upon the table, along with a red rose, complimenting the dark, sultry decor of the restaurant. The flame of the candle flickered, causing shadows that exposed the divine structure of his face, sculpted by the hands of God, Themself. Harriet was lost in the moment, studying him with an intrigue that she was caught off-guard to see his violet eyes lock on to hers. She looked away, succumbing to the power of him, unknowingly.  
“Are they real?” She asked, perhaps a little rudely. Her eyes finally connected back to the Angel’s and he furrowed his brows in question. “Your eyes, I mean… They’re…” She leaned forward on the table, her chin resting on the back of her hand. “Royal.” Gabriel gave a little scoff, glancing down to his lap before he allowed himself to fall back into that endless stare. He nodded.  
“Yeah. They’re real. I was… Lucky to be given these. I’ve been told they’re like Elizabeth Taylor.” He let a smile quirk at the corner of his lips and she followed suit.  
“Oh, now that you mention it…” She glowed with delight. Their gaze lingered, just letting them feel the heat in the air as they let one another test the waters. But their moment was broken as a waiter showed up, handing them the drink menus. “I think I’ll just have a white-wine.” She smiled up to the server who nodded in response then looked to Gabriel, who seemed stumped by the choices. She smiled at the sight and sat back in her seat.  
“I guess I’ll just have red wine.” He gestured. The Blood of Christ seemed fitting enough for the Archangel. The server nodded and went on their way to place the order for drinks, leaving them with the food menus. Ah, yes, food. Gabriel was going to have to suck it up and try it, just to get through this night with some semblance of normality. He wanted tonight to be different to anything else he had experienced, special; to feel what he felt at the café. On that note, he eyed her. “You look beautiful.” He commented, making an obvious attempt to show her he was admiring her. She shifted under his gaze, leaning on the table again, a hand draped on the soft silk of the table cover, closer to him than her.  
“Thank you.” Her voice purred softly, watching as Gabriel’s gaze flicked down to her fingers. “You look handsome, as well.” Even if all he had done was lost the scarf of his previous outfit they had met one another in.  
“If I’d had known you were going to look this spectacular, I would have tried a little harder.” His hand dropped to lightly trace one of her fingers with his own. A jolt went through his body at the feeling of her skin against his. He knew she felt it, too. Her pupils dilated and finger twitched, begging for more connection.  
“Oh, you don’t need to try harder. You’re already enough.” Her voice was almost breathless; they were lost in whatever was happening at that moment. Gabriel’s body filled with warmth as he heard her words, letting his fingers drop to lock between Harriet’s.  
“Yeah, but I want to. You deserve more.” His eyes flicked up to Harriet’s, seeing her meet him there with her own. “I’m sitting in the company of– what I perceive to be– true, Heavenly beauty, right here on Earth.” She smiled, a hand coming up to hide her smile as she shied away, but he squeezed her hand, tightly. “You’ve gotta listen to me, I’m fucking Gabriel, for Heaven’s sake.” Their little booth erupted into laughter, their hands remaining joined right up until they were given their drinks.  
  
The rest of the courses went smoothly. They had decided on no starters, which was lucky for Gabriel as he did not want to consume much in fear of making a fool of himself. For the main course, Gabriel had gone for what the waiter had recommended, which so happened to be a steak. The act of eating was off-putting, though he could hardly fault the flavour of the food– it was more delicious than he had assumed and he could understand why Aziraphale spent so much time partaking in this human activity, but he didn't think he would be able to do it as often as his fellow Angel. He much preferred drinking. The alcohol made his thoughts melt away into nothingness and he could only focus on the piece of Heaven before him. They had ordered dessert--the name of which escaped him-- to share, though Gabriel didn’t eat much of it; it appeared he didn’t have a sweet tooth. Though, he did enjoy watching the delight of the sweet dish take over his date's expression. Her eyes fluttered closed and her shoulders relaxed as delicate hums vibrated from her throat; she radiated beauty. Gabriel used his spoon to cut a piece of the dessert and held it out to her, over the table. Harriet’s warm eyes locked on to Gabriel’s as she tilted forward, taking the spoon between her lips and drawing the dessert into her mouth with a smile curving at her lips. There was a weird sensation in the Angel’s stomach, it felt like it was flipping. He didn’t know what it was but he knew she caused it.  
  
Gabriel had called for the bill, a little disheartened that the night had come to a close. They could both sense it. The night was still young and they hadn’t done nearly enough talking, getting to know one another, experiencing those warming feelings. He needed more. “Hey, you… Uh, want to get out of here? I know a neat little spot a ride away.” He uttered, miracling the exact change in his pocket, including a tip– he was an Angel, after all– before placing it all on the tray for the server to collect. Of course, she nodded, standing up to happily be led away, getting rather used to the feeling of the hand on her back. It was nice to be with someone like this, again.  
  
Stepping out into the cool night, she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the chill crawl up her arms before she felt a warmth envelop her. Draped around her shoulders was the taller man’s jacket. She smiled to herself, pulling it tighter around herself. Oh, he was good. She stepped closer to him, allowing herself to lean near him. This was when she realised just how tall this man was, he towered over her an immense amount. She was wearing heels and still only reached his jaw. It was attractive, she had to admit– but what was more attractive was the way his arm came round to tug her closer as a person passed by. It felt protective; she was in good hands that deeply cared for her, nothing else. Something that she was beginning to realise: Thaddeus did not. Her heart raced at the thought, biting her lower lip; she craved being against his body for longer. But the car had arrived. He stepped away to open the door for her and let her in first, following soon after she was comfortable.  
  
After a short journey, she was led downstairs into a dark and small bar. The only bright light came from a stage, where a band began to set up. He led her over to an empty spot, closer to the back, and sat down in a booth with her. She looked to him with surprise. This didn’t seem like his scene at all, but it was very cosy. She scooted closer to the dark-haired man as he peered over at the band. He smelled so good. She wanted to bury her face in his chest, intoxicate herself with his scent of what appeared to the faintest hint of lilies. He looked down towards her with a small smile, causing her heart to skip.  
“Wine again?” He asked, softly, since the band hadn’t started yet. She nodded, watching him move to leave for the bar. Her eyes never left him, even when the band began to play, gentle tones of jazz that danced through the air. She sunk deeper into the suit-jacket around her shoulders, gently thumbing the cashmere softness between her fingers. She couldn’t help but smile as their eyes connected from across the room. Did he feel that same connection as she did? She didn’t want to get too ahead of herself, but they enjoyed each other’s company; she felt like this was something to get excited about. There was a strange connection between them that began at their first inkling of one another; back when Warlock was little; back at the beginning.  
  
The glass was placed down in front of her along with a soft thud next to her as her date sat down. She nodded in thanks and instantly tended to her drink. She wanted to move closer, yearning to feel more of his warmth, but she remained where she was, and much to her delight, he closed the gap, an arm above her on the backrest above them. Their feelings seemed mutual.  
“I wouldn't have guessed you liked jazz…” She commented, turning to face him, their knees brushing. He smirked over the rim of his wine.  
“Neither did I. But it speaks to me the most," he gave a shrug, "Out of all music I’ve heard.” He commented, rather seriously. “It speaks of heartbreak, betrayal, hurt… Love. It fits whatever mood you’re in.” The answer surprised the brunette; she honestly didn’t expect it, but she appreciated it. It was good to know a little more about him, but she couldn't help but wonder why heartbreak, betrayal and hurt were on his list.  
“I’ve never thought about it that way…” She glanced over towards the band, fondly. “I think I like jazz most of all, as well.”  
“That’s because you have good taste.” Gabriel purred, his thumb lightly tracing the top of her shoulder, through his jacket. She took that as an invitation, leaning back against his chest.  
“You have known me less than a day or so, and yet you already know my taste? Well, I like you already.” She chuckled, not noticing the expression on Gabriel’s face.  
  
The Angel’s heart raced, pulsating blood around his human form. He’d never experienced any of this before, it was borderline terrifying. He felt like his human body wasn’t going to survive through this. Was God punishing him? For ruining Armageddon? For being on Earth with a mortal woman? But it felt good to be liked, to feel wanted and appreciated. It was something Angels hadn't had the chance to experience anything like it and at first taste, they were hooked. Aziraphale was proof of that, clearly. Yet, for some reason, it was perfectly fine for him. Anyone else and they Fall. He was counting down the days for his own Fall from Grace.  
“Hey, you okay?” She asked, a hand on his thigh. Had he even been asked that before? He grabbed his drink and downed some of it; it helped clear his head.  
“Yeah," He cleared his croaky throat, "Yeah, I’m fine. Just… Thinking.” He mumbled. “Bad memories. Don’t worry.” He assured with a nod, giving her small body a little squeeze. She scooted a little closer, squeezing his thigh.  
“Hey... You’re not alone, okay? I’m here with my fair share of bad memories… We've got to let them go. They're no help to us right now. We’ve got each other for the time being, right?” Her smile was warming. He couldn't help but return the gesture. She was right. Of course, she was. Humans knew how to deal with human things. Emotions were something the Angel didn’t really experience, not in the same way humans did. Aziraphale had, he had gotten used to life on Earth. Gabriel had only been visiting the Earth for a few months since everything happened and he was already experiencing human emotions. It made him uncomfortable to even fathom that he was becoming more like Aziraphale, the realisation tore at his insides and caused an antsiness in his soul. It was wrong.  
…was it?  
He glanced down to the woman against his body and admired her. Was it wrong to grow accustomed to Earth? In the eyes of God, he thought so, but things were not as they were. Ineffability was Ineffable, after all. Perhaps he was more afraid of becoming like the Angel who had destroyed everything he had built up to, rather than being afraid of changing his personal beliefs. He closed his eyes. His body ached with discomfort, mind racing as though it was trying to solve a puzzle that hadn't been invented yet. A hand on his cheek had the Angel’s lids parting in slight question.  
“Get out of there.” She uttered, now turning to cup both cheeks with her hands. She didn't know what she was doing. “You’re overthinking, I can feel it. Stay in the room with your dazzling date.” She quirked a smirk, running her thin thumbs over the other’s perfect cheekbones. Gabriel was already feeling years of hurt being soothed and smoothed. “Whatever your thinking of is not as important as me.” He didn't know what had come over him; he was overwhelmed with an emotion he hadn't experienced, he didn't understand and that he didn't know how to express. He let his instincts guide him, moving his arms around her body, drawing her flush against him as he brought their foreheads together. It felt completely natural to him, even despite the feeling of his heart beating out of his chest.  
  
This was too fast.  
Every inch of her screamed at herself to slow down, take it step-by-step. But the breath in her lungs had shortened as she felt his broad body so hot against her’s, arms strong and protective around her shapely waist. His breath tickled her lips which parted out of habit, perhaps yearning. Her arms slithered around his neck, hooking herself on him as she felt her heart rap against her chest.  
It was too fast, but nothing in her life had her feeling the way she did She didn’t want anything as much as she wanted him. It burned in her chest just how much she desired him close to her, against her, desperation clawing at her insides, demanding more. She moved her fingers into his hair, pulling away slightly to gaze up into his lost eyes. He must have taken that as the end of their moment, drawing away to take another drink of his wine. She watched him with a bite of her lip, feeling as though she had been left behind in the moment they shared. She took her glass and almost drank half, needing it. She was embarrassed. Had she misjudged the situation? The last thing she wanted to do was come on so strong to someone she enjoyed the presence of so dearly. She watched the band again, trying to ignore the awkward situation she had made for herself when she felt warm breath against her ear.  
“May I hold you again?” Came that low whisper. She didn’t know what was more attractive, the feeling of his breath and sound of his voice against her ear or the fact he had asked permission. She glanced back to him and nodded, shifting her body closer to him, eager to be against his warm chest again. Her eyes closed as she melted into his protective arms, head tilted upwards to bury herself away against his neck. She felt his chin come to rest on her head and she smiled, her hand coming up to squeeze his bicep, wanting to hold on to him.  
  
Cuddling on a first date? She didn’t think that was even an option but it was nice. The cuddling was nice, in general. She never did this with Thaddeus, it was always off the cards. It was hardly ever physical with him after Warlock was born. It was as though she had fulfilled her duty and was cast aside, wanting nothing affectionate to do with her again. Of course, he had excuses for his distance-- work being the top one-- but none of them made much of a difference for the distance was still there. In hindsight, it was clear his straying was the reason for that; she had been cast aside. She was glad that Warlock hadn’t been home to see any of it blow up; she missed him every day, but she was trying to save him the pain his father wanted to inflict on everyone around him. The way that Warlock had grown up was her biggest regret. Thaddeus was never there and when he was he hardly spoke two words to his trophy-family. If Warlock had the joy of speaking to his father, it was berating and mocking. He didn't understand his son. Harriet knew she that was absent as a mother to her son for so many years of his life, and it would always haunt her. The privileged lifestyle she had grown accustomed to had changed her. She was not the same. But she had changed more when Warlock was sent away as that was when the cheating had surfaced. There were days when Harriet broke down on the phone to her son, close to begging him to come back, unable to stand the horror of her husband, but she always pulled herself together and thought of her son's education; that was one thing she wasn't going to let her or Thaddeus ruin. Tears brimmed in her eyes as the memories flooded back–- curse the alcohol.  
  
Gabriel looked down at the movements, brows furrowed in question.  
“Harriet?” He called her softly, trying to drag her from the world she was stranded in; it seemed they were both susceptible to it tonight. As she looked up to him, he noticed the tears and instinctively moved to wipe them away with his thumb. She was crying? He felt his heart begin to twinge at the sight-- another new feeling-- and he bit his lower lip, worry clear upon his face. She nuzzled into his hand and sighed, causing the Angel to purse his lips in deeper concern. She brought her hand to cover Gabriel’s, delicately touching her lips to his palm, causing bursts of electricity along his spine with each kiss. All he could do was watch her, his mind empty from the reaction his body had.  
  
In a similar fashion to Gabriel's awakening, she felt herself being soothed. Her wounds were being treated with a healing balm and she was beginning to thank the Heavens for sending this man her way.  
“You’re too good for this world…” She whispered, looking up to him. In an instant, before the Angel could respond, her arms were around his neck, as they were before, and her lips were against his...

**Author's Note:**

> Left on a cliffhanger, mostly to see who reads this. I hope you've enjoyed it! I apologise for any mistakes!


End file.
